


Fields of Summer

by noxsoulmate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, France (Country), Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Inspired by Art, Prompt Fic, Reunions, Romance, Summer Vacation, Vacation, mention of nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxsoulmate/pseuds/noxsoulmate
Summary: When her search for a potion to combat her nightmares brings Hermione to the lavender fields in Provence, France, she’s rather shocked to recognise the mysterious witch living there.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67
Collections: Magical Vacation Manip/Writing Fest





	Fields of Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeacupNiffler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeacupNiffler/gifts).



> Hello there 😊 hope you're ready for a fluffy, calm, little one shot.  
> This one was written for the Magical Vacation Manip/Writing Fest over in [Hermione’s Nook](https://www.facebook.com/groups/hermionesnook/), where the writers got to choose one of the beautiful manips made by the artists.  
> The one I picked can be seen below; it was created by [TeacupNiffler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeacupNiffler) and I was asked if I could write a Hermione/Pansy fic. I'm happy to please 😁
> 
> Hope you all like it, have fun!

The sense of inner peace was intense as Hermione let her eyes wander across the fields of lavender. The smell was rich in the air surrounding her and for a moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, reveling in the sensation of the late morning sun on her skin and the low breeze in her hair.

Almost as if it were an afterthought, Hermione knew exactly why the potions from here had such a strong effect. A talented witch would be able to harvest the essence of the peace surrounding them. Lavender was part of every calming potion, yes; but as with most things, not only was it important what ingredient was used but also where it came from. And the lavender from Le Plateau de Valensole in Provence, France, certainly _was_ the best there was.

Kneeling down, Hermione brushed her hand over one of the plants, bringing it up to her nose to take a deep breath. It was amazing how after years of pent-up stress and restlessness and fear and nightmares… after all this time, just standing here, breathing the calming, lavender-filled air, brought her a sense of inner peace she hadn’t felt in such a long time.

Remembering that Hermione was somewhat intruding on a property, she got up again and moved over to the bicycle a kind old lady from the close-by village had let her borrow. Though from what little French Hermione spoke, she was half convinced the grandmother had actually gifted it to her.

Hermione smiled at the memory. The people in the little village had all been so kind to her. This random stranger, coming into their town, asking for the person living within the fields of lavender. It had become quite apparent rather quickly that no one knew they had a witch living amongst them. The village was purely Muggle and whoever it was that lived out here, they called her _l’Apothicaire_ and _l’Herboriste_. Not once had Hermione heard the word _la Sorcière_ so much as uttered.

The other thing she had learned about the witch was that apparently, she was rather reclusive. No one even knew where _exactly_ she lived - which was easily explained to Hermione, once she had noticed all the protective spells and Muggle-repelling charms in the middle of the fields. The people of the village only knew _l’Apothicaire_ because she joined their _marché_ , their market, every Saturday, selling her “tinctures” along with other lavender products such as soaps and moisturisers and candles. She used that same day to collect all the things she would need, starting with the postal office and ending with a trip to the little supermarket.

By the way the villagers had been able to give Hermione a minute report of every step _l’Apothicaire_ took once walking the picturesque cobblestone streets made her realise rather quickly why the witch stayed by herself the rest of the week.

And why she usually kept visitors far away.

Deciding to push her bicycle the rest of the way instead of riding along the fields, Hermione prayed that Luna had been telling the truth. That she had met the witch on one of her many travels and befriended her and was now sure she wouldn’t mind being visited by someone interested in her craft. 

There was no more time for Hermione to worry as she sensed the moment she breached the wards, seeing the old ruin of a cottage about one hundred feet away from her transform into a gorgeous and quite lively one. Sure that the wards had informed the owner, Hermione took a deep breath and moved on.

The closer she came, the clearer she could make out a well-maintained entrance area. The cottage was painted in the colours of warm sunshine yellow, reminding Hermione of the houses within the village. The window sills were covered with flowers in hues of white and blue and - of course - lavender. The door and the window frames were a warm teal and all around were various mismatched pots, holding more flowers of all the colours of the rainbow. There were also little figurines around the entranceway and gardening tools stood to one side.

All in all, it was the most picturesque scene Hermione had come across in a while. If she hadn’t already been intrigued to meet the person living here, she would be now. She wanted to meet the person who lived in this stunning, cosy place.

Leaning her bicycle against the cottage, she knocked on the door, waiting.

Nothing happened.

Looking around, Hermione spied an open window but couldn’t see or hear anything. She knocked again but once more, nothing happened.

Biting her lip, she turned back towards the fields of lavender, looking towards the horizon. Towards where the village lay.

What should she do now? Wait here? Go back? Maybe she could get a room there? She had planned to stay in the village for a while longer, anyway. No matter how the meeting with this witch went. The place had both intrigued her and stolen her heart mere seconds after entering.

Still debating on what to do, a sudden noise drew Hermione’s attention. To her left, she watched as a woman appeared around the corner, holding a basket filled with lavender.

A person who looked strikingly like… 

“Pa- Pansy?”

Hermione was sure she was gaping, but how could she not?

Not only had Pansy Parkinson been the last person Hermione had thought to meet here - the witch had also always been associated with glamour and style and fashion, rich balls and beautiful gowns. Never had Hermione pictured her in a simple white cotton dress, obviously meant for more practical reasons than anything else, her straw-sunhat shading a face that held no ounce of make-up, and her black hair in a messy braid, strands of it falling across her face as it swayed in the soft breeze.

The beauty of this vision made Hermione’s heart skip a beat.

Pansy looked as shocked as she was and Hermione could see her grip on the basket tighten fractionally. After a visible deep breath, though, Pansy walked on, stepping right up to the bench beneath one of the windows, putting the basket there.

“I should’ve known it would be you.”

Hermione hesitated, waiting for Pansy to elaborate but, instead, the silence stretched on.

“Pardon me? What do you mean?”

Pansy seemed to find comfort in the distraction of separating the lavender into small bundles. Even though her fingers were sure and precise, it looked like she was merely trying to keep her hands busy as she explained.

“Luna. I should’ve known she was talking about you. Who else of our ‘old acquaintances’ would want to ‘learn my craft’ or whatever she called it? It had to be you.”

“Luna… she called you?”

“Floo-call, yes. Last night. Though I have to admit, you’re here sooner than I expected you to be.”

“I’m… eh… sorry?”

She didn’t really know what to say and was sure Pansy hadn’t meant it as an accusation. But she was still so thrown from the whole situation and - she had to admit, even if just to herself - from Pansy not looking at her.

“Don’t be,” Pansy said, still working on the lavender as she mumbled, barely audible for Hermione, “not as if more time would’ve prepared me any better for seeing you again.”

Hermione swallowed at that, choosing not to reply.

The silence between them was heavy and she continued watching Pansy work until finally, she appeared to be done with her task, looking back up at her for the first time.

“Anyway,” she said as if they hadn’t just stood there in silence forever. “Would you like to come inside? Join me for a late breakfast and we can talk about… your apprenticeship.”

The little smirk on her lips seemed to be equal parts amused, unsure, and a dare for Hermione. It looked so shockingly familiar that it pulled a small smile from her. Nodding, she waited for Pansy to lead the way.

Following her into the little cottage, Hermione was surprised to really find just that - a cottage. She had been half-convinced it would be bigger on the inside but it seemed as if Pansy didn’t need much to be happy.

Just like the entrance area, the inside of the cottage was well-kept and cosy. It was also sunbathed, thanks to the many, many windows around the room. The entire right-hand side appeared to be one large kitchen area and potion laboratory, including a big shelf overloaded with books and journals and scrolls of parchment. Bundles upon bundles of lavender hung from the wooden beams and bars of the roof. There were a few other herbs drying as well, Hermione could tell, picking out a faint note of at least mint, rosemary, and sage. But they barely made it through the ever-present fragrance of lavender.

Straight ahead from the entrance door stood a plain table, which appeared to be overflowing with parchments and yet clearly organised. To her left, Hermione found a little alcove housing jackets and shoes and also some gardening clothes right next to the door. The rest of that side was made up by two doors - most likely a bathroom and small bedroom, if Hermione had to guess - and a sitting area in the back, with a very comfortable looking couch, a chair, and a small table that would just be enough for two people to sit at. 

“Wow,” Hermione breathed out, taking in the whole of the cottage.

Pansy had already moved ahead to the kitchen, opening up one of the cupboards.

“I know it’s not much but-”

“Are you kidding?” Hermione interrupted, letting her hand wander over one of the spines in the bookshelf. “It’s lovely. Honestly,” she added when she found Pansy’s questioning gaze on her.

A small smile played around Pansy’s lips and Hermione was sure to detect a faint hue of pink on her cheeks, but she didn’t comment on either. Pretending to be busy browsing the books, Hermione really watched as Pansy prepared them both some coffee and got out pastries and croissants as well as different kinds of jam and marmalade and honey. Levitating all of it to the little table, she beckoned Hermione to follow her, pointing to the soft couch.

“This looks delicious, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s not as good as on Saturdays when I pick it up fresh from the village, but stasis charms really are a wonderful creation.”

“I’m sure it will be delicious,” Hermione assured before taking a bite and promptly having to stifle a moan. “Oh my- mhhh, this is heaven!”

Pansy looked rather pleased with herself, not even bothering to hide her grin as she bit into her own pastry.

For a while, they ate in silence, Hermione sipping her coffee - trying hard not to let it show how touched she was Pansy still knew how she liked it most - and enjoying the delicious french food. The silence between them was not as heavy as it had been outside but it certainly wasn’t as relaxed and comfortable as it once used to be.

As she prepared her second pastry, Hermione cleared her throat.

“So… you still usually eat this late in the morning?”

“I do, yes,” Pansy said, nodding for emphasis. “As you might remember, I don’t like eating first thing after waking up. Also, I rather spend the early hours outside in the fields, taking care of the lavender, and harvesting some fresh ones.”

“Why the early morning?”

“It’s… well.” Pansy hesitated, biting her lip before going on. “It’s the most peaceful time. I’m sure it wouldn’t change anything about my potions but-”

“No, it would,” Hermione interrupted, getting Pansy’s attention right away. “I mean… I guess it’s almost always peaceful here,” she quickly amended. “But there’s a reason some potion ingredients need to be harvested at a particular time of day. Maybe it’s not obvious for lavender but… I’m sure it at least helps to some degree.”

When she found Pansy’s intense gaze on her, Hermione could feel an ounce of heat creep up her neck and settle in her cheeks. She was sure Pansy saw it as her smile turned softer.

“This apprenticeship might be easier than I thought. Though I guess once again I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“About that,” Hermione began, putting the pastry back on her plate. “I hope you know I had no idea it was you I would meet here. If I had known-”

“You wouldn’t have come?” Pansy asked and Hermione was sure she didn’t imagine the faint note of hurt in her voice.

“I would’ve left you in peace,” she clarified. “I promise. I never meant to… intrude.”

“You’re not intruding,” Pansy replied without hesitation.

The surety in her voice had Hermione look at her. “You don’t mind me being here then?”

Pansy held her gaze for a moment before looking away, not giving her an answer at all. Instead, she cleared her throat, reached for a glass filled with what Hermione could only guess was lavender jam, given the colour, and changed the direction of their conversation.

“Luna said you were interested in learning more about my craft. She…” Clearing her throat, Pansy continued in a much calmer tone. “She said you were especially interested in the calming potions. Does that… I mean… Is it still that bad?”

Picking up the cup with her coffee, Hermione took a moment before she replied.

“Worse, actually. Over the years…”

With a shake of her head, Hermione put the cup back down without even taking a sip, sorting her thoughts before starting over. 

“You know I’ve been taking calming potions ever since the Horcrux hunt and over the years-”

“They became weaker and weaker, didn’t they? Merlin, Hermione, I _warned_ you your body might build up a resistance.”

“You didn’t _have_ to warn me, I knew that myself,” Hermione defended herself, throwing Pansy a glare that held no heat at all.

Pansy looked undeterred by it as she asked, “So how bad is it now?”

“Bad,” Hermione admitted, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hide it from Pansy. “As in… I could probably drink water and it would have the same effect.”

Pansy let out a few swear words under her breath and Hermione was sure not all of them were in English. After a moment though, she calmed down, visibly forcing herself to focus.

“Alright so, what? You want me to teach you how to brew better potions? To maybe one day find one that helps again?”

“Actually,” Hermione said, nibbling on her lower lip. “We don’t need to find one anymore.”

Squinting at that, Pansy’s gaze flicked over Hermione’s face, until her eyes grew wide.

“You mean-”

“Yes. I mean the potions you’re brewing, the ones you gave Luna to treat Blaise’s nightmares... they still help.”

“How many have you taken?”

“That’s the thing,” she said excitedly. “It’s been half a year since Luna discovered I suffered from such terrible nightmares. She gave me the first dose that night and for a good three weeks, I didn’t need another! Three weeks. Pansy, I- I don’t know what you do with these potions, but they are miracles in bottles. Even before the resistance to it, I needed a new dose of calming potions at least once a week, if not more. But yours? Yours is just-”

“If I had known…” Pansy interrupted, sounding heartbroken now. “If I had known it was so bad for you, I would have sent you mine _years ago_.”

“Pansy, no,” Hermione told her, reaching for her hand and resting hers on top. “You couldn’t know.”

“I would have known… if I hadn’t left.”

Drawing in a sharp breath, Hermione leaned back, carefully withdrawing her hand from Pansy’s. Of course this topic would come up, sooner or later but anticipating it didn’t make her any less unprepared for it. Craving the warmth, Hermione once again picked her coffee cup back up to cradle in her hands as she searched for the right words.

“But you had to leave. We both know that. You weren’t happy in England, not anymore. Not after… everything. And seeing the wonderful life you’ve built here I can’t help but feel that it was the right decision.” Contemplating about adding more, Hermione bit her lower lip and then went on. “I know you say I’m not intruding but… I’m still sorry for disturbing your peace. I’m sure if Luna had known, she wouldn’t have told me to come here.”

A soft scoff left Pansy.

“I think you and I both know Luna’s far more perceptive than people give her credit for. The others might not have known, but I’m almost certain Luna knew about… Spain…”

A wistful smile flicked over Hermione’s face.

Spain…

It had come as a shock to everyone when after the final battle, Theo Nott had jumped right into Harry Potter’s arms, hugging and kissing him. It had been an even greater shock to see Harry actually return the attention. As it turned out, the two had been secretly dating for two years by then. 

Leaving them no choice, their friends had been forced to now get along with each other, if only for Theo and Harry’s sake. Away from school and war and prejudices though, it became apparent over the years that it was easier than anyone had thought. By the time Theo went down on one knee and – _finally_ – asked his boyfriend of, by then, seven years to marry him, the whole circle of friends had celebrated together.

The actual ceremony had been a two week long event, set in Spain.

One of the most unlikely friendships that had formed had possibly been between Hermione and Pansy. Only, during the two weeks in Spain, it hadn’t stayed at just a friendship and by the time the married couple took off on their honeymoon to Bora Bora, the two witches had decided to travel around Spain for a while longer.

Everything had been perfect; _they_ had been perfect and they had been together. Hermione’s nightmares and panic attacks had even calmed down, and the stress Pansy seemed to constantly be buckled down by, had been lifted from her shoulders. If only for a little while.

It had all come back with their return to England.

For a good six months, they had tried.

Tried to handle their secret relationship and their daily lives and the attention all of them still got, even after all this time. Tried to balance it, tried to help each other.

After half a year, Pansy had given up and decided to follow a path she had been thinking about ever since the end of the war. Ever since her side had lost, ever since her name had been on the wrong side of the outcome and no amount of connections to the winning side had been able to erase it.

A path she hadn’t talked about with Hermione and which, apparently, had led her to Le Plateau de Valensole in Provence, France.

And now, three years later, Hermione as well.

“So, what now,” Hermione asked, unable to tell how much time had passed as they had sat in silence. She only knew it’d been long enough for both their coffees to be finished and the pastries to be eaten.

Pansy shrugged her shoulders, a very untypical move for her.

“I don’t know. How… how long were you planning to stay?”

“I took all the vacation I’ve neglected over the years. I had planned to stay the whole summer.”

“One summer sounds… good,” Pansy said in a tone of voice that led Hermione to believe she had wanted to say something else. But she already went on before Hermione could ask. “I guess I won’t have to tell you that a big part of what makes these potions so effective is the place the lavender grows and how I harvest it.”

“Of course,” Hermione replied right away. “It might still help me create something for me.”

“Or I could, you know, send you some. When you’re back in England, I mean.”

“We’ll see,” she ended the topic, for now, smiling softly at Pansy. “So, this means you'll let me stay?”

Pansy’s eyes flicked over her face once more, until she gave a soft nod.

“Stay then. Stay and I will teach you the potions you need.”

Hermione’s smile turned a tad wider and when not long after, Pansy mirrored it, a small voice inside of her whispered that maybe, just _maybe_ , they wouldn’t need to find a way to send potions back to England after all.

~*~

It soon turned out that Hermione’s instinct had not failed her.

One summer turned into more than that and her vacation into a permanent stay.

Their first kiss after so many years wasn’t a loud, stormy one but rather calm and peaceful; like the smell of lavender all around them. It was not an explosion of passion - it was coming home after a long journey.

The following summer, when the lavender stood in bloom again, filling the air all around the fields with its fragrance, the two witches invited their closest friends to join them in celebrating their union. While it wasn’t a traditional wedding, for Hermione and Pansy, it held as much meaning as any wedding ever could. Standing in the fields of lavender, with their hands and hearts joined and their vows leaving their lips, no one could have been happier, no one could have been more serene, as these two witches.

_~*~ fin ~*~_

**Author's Note:**

> 💖💖💖 All my love to [LunaRavenclaw9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaRavenclaw9) for betaing this for me and for coming up with this wonderful title; and to [Alya_Chloris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alya_Chloris) for her help with the plot and of course the few French words thrown in there 😉  
> I love you, Ladies!! 😘


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